


A Last Good Act

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Case Fic, Enemies Working Together, Gen, Kidnapping, POV Thomas Nightingale, protective Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Peter goes missing and Lesley offers to help.





	A Last Good Act

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melody_Jade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melody_Jade/gifts).



> Written for melody_jade's fandom-stocking.

Peter went missing on a damp and dreary day in January, which seemed to befit the mood we had all been in since Lesley May's betrayal. He'd been starting to come out of his own head, no thanks to my lessons and my inability to process my own feelings about Lesley's betrayal. My apprentices both but only the one I chose for my own.

So many of my choices have lead to this moment, to both my apprentices lost. I had barely had two, and now I had none.

* * * * *

It had seemed like a perfectly ordinary morning. We had just successfully concluded an investigation into the theft of some magical properties from a local nazareth and had finished one of Molly's exceptional breakfasts when Peter's mobile telephone rang. He took the call in the foyer as I finished up my coffee and informed me that it was an old friend from his days at Hendon. I've often felt that Peter spends far too much time at the Folly and so insisted that he take the day off from his studies and go meet his friend. And there began the troubles.

Peter did not return to the Folly that evening for dinner which was not an unusual occurrence and neither myself nor Molly were put out by his non-appearance. The truth is I was pleased that Peter was beginning to interact with the world again and that he had a life outside of the Folly; for so long it had been my refuge and my self-made prison that I never wanted Peter to have such a complicated relationship with these bricks and mortar.

And then Molly informed me that he had not come home that night. Again I was not unduly worried, Peter is a grown man after all, but when I received a call from Seawoll's team that they hadn't been able to get hold of him I became a little more concerned. Peter would never renege on his responsibilities, it is perhaps our greatest common strength.

And then Lesley May turned up on our doorstep.

* * * * *

It was one of only two instances where I've had to physically restrain Molly from attacking a visitor but eventually I managed to get Lesley May safely into the coach house; there was never any chance that I would allow her to once more set foot inside the Folly proper.

“I love what you've done with the place,” she said. I ignored her and moved the chair from the computer desk over to the sofa where Lesley was seated. Molly was downstairs ready to stop Lesley from leaving without my blessing.

“Where's Peter?” I asked, not feeling particularly charitable towards her.

“Aren't you going to threaten me? Do some fancy magic?”

“I'm not a performing seal. Where's Peter?”

“What makes you think I have him?”

I didn't say a word, just waited. Lesley responded by taking off her mask and laying it on the table. I've had a lot of practice at not reacting to the things I've seen, and this was no exception. I think perhaps that was part of the problem, perhaps I didn't self-flagellate myself enough for her satisfaction.

“I didn't take him. Neither did my _master_.” She paused to see my reaction, to which I had none. “But I know who did.”

“And naturally you expect me to believe you?”

“I don't expect anything from you,” she said. “I never have.”

This had the ring of truth to it and I tried to remember that Lesley needed my help, not my condemnation. Very few people are irredeemable – I'm sure Peter would say none, but then he wasn't at Ettersberg.

“Where is he?”

“I'll show you.”

I sighed. I had expected as much. “Very well.”

Lesley seemed surprised, and then amused. “We'll take my car,” she said.

“Naturally.” I'd anticipated as much. Which is why I had already let my colleagues in Belgravia know to be outside ready to follow the car before we left.

“I'll go first,” Lesley said and stood up. I stayed seated until she was near the door and then followed her, keeping a good distance between us.

“It's all right Molly,” I said, as Molly hissed in Lesley's direction. “Lesley's going to take me to Peter.”

Molly has become awfully fond of Peter and she had been fond of Lesley, if not in the same way. I had thought it would do Molly good to have another woman in the house but Peter informs me that Molly has her own set of particular friends and I have decided not to look into the matter further unless I absolutely must.

Molly reluctantly moved out of Lesley's way and watched with interest as Lesley replaced her mask.

“I'll be fine,” I told Molly, but she didn't look convinced.

Lesley moved on to her car and I followed, trusting that the other officers were in position by now and ready to follow. I was relying on Lesley assuming that I wouldn't know the correct procedures when an officer has been kidnapped.

“I don't want Peter to get hurt,” Lesley said, as I entered the car.

“You have an interesting way of showing it,” I told her.

“It would have been worse for him if I hadn't done it,” she said. “Peter's not cut out for this. He's made for learning and sitting in offices, not keeping the monsters in check.”

I frowned at the word monsters. “Is that what you think I do?”

“It's what the Folly was founded on,” she replied, and then began to drive off before I had a chance to respond.

* * * * *

She brought me to a old warehouse in Bermondsey, one of the few there still waiting to be turned into offices and flats. Peter no doubt would have something to say abut the gentrification of the area. I on the other hand tried not to remember what it had been like to be brought here as a small child, the docks a working living entity back then; if I waited long enough I could still hear my grandfather telling me not to dawdle or we'd miss our train back home.

“He's in there,” Lesley said, breaking into my thoughts.

I looked up to where she was pointing, the second floor of the building where a yellowish light was shining in the window. Outside by the front door I saw a familiar figure hunched up against the cold – one of my contacts. If he'd planted himself nearby that meant that Peter was at least unhurt; Molly isn't the only person in the demi-monde to have become fond of my apprentice. No doubt he was waiting for the opportune moment to alert us to his discovery.

“And you can't get him out because...?” I asked.

Lesley shifted in her seat. “ _He'd_ know. If you make a big enough bang he won't question me about it.”

“Lesley,” I said, turning to face her, “if you're afraid of him....”

“I'm the one people are afraid of,” she interrupted. “I have nothing to be afraid of any more. The worst that could happen, did, if you hadn't already noticed.”

“I didn't look hard enough,” I told her, trying to keep eye contact so I could gauge her reaction. “When you were hurt, I didn't look hard enough for a way to fix you because I was afraid of the price we all would have to pay.”

Lesley's expression remained unreadable. “None of us are getting any younger,” she said, voice dripping with irony.

I decided that there was no more that could be said here and got out of the car. Lesley remained where she was and I chanced a look around the street. A single black car was idling nearby but I couldn't tell who was driving it.

I walked over to my contact and exchanged a few words with him. To an onlooker it would appear that I was merely asking a vagrant to move on, but in fact he was telling me that Peter was actually being kept in the basement, and the top window was a decoy. I looked over at Lesley who was still sitting where I had left her. It was impossible to tell whether she was aware of this or not – I rather thought not. Despite their diverging paths, I did truly feel that a part of Lesley cares about Peter. Just not enough to let him arrest her.

And then, once my contact was well out of the way, I extended my hand and sent the door of the warehouse careening into the back wall. There were shouts from inside and I heard shouts of police from outside as well as I made my move. Two men came around the corner and stopped as I lifted them into the air and left them dangling as I moved downstairs into the basement.

I sent a bright light in front of me and called out Peter's name. There was no response until I was halfway down the corridor and I could hear a muffled sound behind a large steel door. I carefully approached it – there were magical wards keeping the door closed rather than locks, but I had seen something like this once before, during the war, and knew where to aim my fire so that the door fell backwards off its hinges with a loud bang that echoed throughout the warehouse.

Peter was seated in the middle of the room, tied to a chair and looking remarkably well aside from a single cut above his right eyebrow.

“The cavalry has arrived,” he said, with a half-smile half-sob.

“I'm sorry it's taken so long,” I told him and moved to quickly release him from his bonds. He began to rub the life back into his wrists and ankles. “Do you know how many were here?”

“I only saw three – two white men, Eastern European, tall, skinny, bald. The third one was black, dark skinned, glasses, well built. They said they wanted to see how much I was worth. Did they – send a blackmail note or...?”

I shook my head slowly, considering. “I don't think they wanted to know how much you're worth to me,” I told him. He looked very confused but I told him that I would debrief him fully after he'd been checked over in a hospital. “Can you walk?”

“I think so,” he replied, only to fail to do just that, limping as he tried to take a few steps and forcing me to catch him and help him stand. “I think I spoke too soon.”

“Yes, come on, I'll help.” Together we made a slow progress along the corridor.

“Please tell me you have some sort of backup,” he said as we contemplated how to get Peter up the stairs.

“Of course,” I replied, hoping that this was true. Peter looked sceptical but didn't say anything else, concentrating no doubt on not letting on just how hurt he was as we proceeded slowly upwards. Sometimes I think we are too alike for our own good.

We were met at the top of the stairs by a couple of uniforms and DCI Seawoll.

“You two all right?” Seawoll asked.

“Peter needs medical attention,” I said, over Peter's objections that he was perfectly fine and the usual well-oiled machinery of the Metropolitan Police and the London Ambulance Service descended upon us, taking Peter away in an ambulance with assurances that I would meet him there soon.

“Lesley May?” I asked Seawoll, once Peter was well out of earshot.

“Get them down first,” Seawoll said and I coughed to cover up my embarrassment at having left two of Peter's kidnappers dangling three feet off the floor. I gently released them from the spell and a couple of very confused uniforms promptly arrested them.

I then followed Seawoll outside. Lesley's car was still there but the black car I had spotted on my arrival was now missing all of its windows.

“Are the officers hurt?” I asked.

“A few cuts, they'll be fine. She had another car waiting in the car park, blasted the windows out and then just strolled past them and waved. I suppose there's a good reason why you didn't handcuff her to the steering wheel before you went after Peter?”

“I don't suppose that would have kept her, do you?”

Seawoll sighed. “She was a bloody good cop until she got mixed up with you.” There was no longer much heat behind his words but it was a familiar refrain. I couldn't claim to disagree.

“I have no doubt there will be other opportunities to bring her and the Faceless Man to justice.”

“There better be,” Seawoll said and then moved off to take charge of the other officers whilst I used my rank to get a lift to the hospital. Peter would be fine, and perhaps knowing that Lesley had helped in this way would give him some comfort.

Or perhaps more likely he would be even more determined to find her. I know I certainly was.  



End file.
